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James Stephen Finn


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James Stephen Finn is a sonic artist, musician, sound designer, composer, sound engineer, recordist and radio broadcaster, currently based in London, UK.

He produces work in a range of fields including musical composition, art exhibits/installations, sound design for film, radio programming and performance works in mediums such as dance.

He is also a member of The Band of Holy Joy.

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  • maudyyyyyyyyyy

    fuck yeah

    7 May 2012 Reply
  • joseph-space

    And yea, all outsiders will be rejected and forced out, vilified and persecuted, banished to the cold space.

    16 Feb 2011 Reply
  • joseph-space

    The day must come when the castles of this materialistic civilisation will be spread like a murderous germ amongst the inhabitants.

    9 Feb 2011 Reply
  • thecaretakerman

    Sunday morning... yesterdays discarded newspapers blowing down tomorrows deserting streets and in the church I attend I strive to find some peace in my soul way to go man, way to go, we've all got a whole way to go.

    6 Feb 2011 Reply
  • joseph-space

    Could it happen here? In this place? Ever?

    4 Feb 2011 Reply
  • joseph-space

    I've stood in other doorways and looked on as two hundred police in military uniform and effects made a violent foray to evict two tenants, looked on, looked on, looked on.

    4 Feb 2011 Reply
  • joseph-space

    I've watched the gentrification virus seep across other cities, always affecting those that have, through their flair and artistic expression made popular those areas that the rich flock to invade wanting to experience and soak up the very atmosphere that they inevitably kill.

    4 Feb 2011 Reply
  • thecaretakerman

    Call of duty man. I watched the first strike go in as they chased the young man into the doorway of the community hall outside. Pack mentality the detectives who came berated me. Cameras not working. Blood still on pavement. Looks ugly. Not allowed to wash it away. Real ugly. Cold day.

    2 Feb 2011 Reply
  • joseph-space

    But here I stand, once again at the door, with this monolithic slab towering above, to step through it's portal, and enter its flickering rundown passages once more, how do I feel?

    1 Feb 2011 Reply
  • thecaretakerman

    What am I doing here in this place even, man you know it is true, I am so far away from where I belong, I am so far from home, every day I dream about it, but every day it slips further and further away

    24 Jan 2011 Reply
  • thecaretakerman

    And down below in the basement catch migrants sleeping in the bins covered in last nights waste fighting for scraps with rats the stinking car park floor a fox stares me out from subterranean passage whilst two disconnected lovers curse my existence what am I doing in this job?

    23 Jan 2011 Reply
  • thecaretakerman

    sirens wail in distance electricity blown blackout in all corridors lift stuck on seventeenth floor grandmother and two dogs keening within me I turn my back on all this and stare transixed towards magic city skyline knowing there lies the future and this place can only be the past

    20 Jan 2011 Reply